


Falling in Snow

by Crystaldaggerz



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012), rise of the guardians
Genre: AU, Action, Action/Adventure, Adventure, Bromance, M/M, OCs - Freeform, pre slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-11-29 06:39:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/683965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crystaldaggerz/pseuds/Crystaldaggerz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Preslash. Due to popular demand, I'm separating this story into two parts, the second one having the Bunny/Jack slash goodness. Halloween goes missing and the Guardians are called to join the other Holiday spirits to find him. Does he have anything to do with the recent upsurge of scares sweeping across the globe? And if he isn't found, what will happen when Hell's Gate opens on All Hallow's Eve? Read AN (I have this posted on my FF account under another username, so if you see it, it's mine, lol)</p><p>Warnings: Bromanceness, fluff, and character bonding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

The high-pitch cry pierced the still quiet of the room, earning the fluttering feathery Guardian a few hard glares from her mini companions. Ducking her head, she blushed in embarrassment, but could yet hardly contain the smile that was dancing on the corners of her lips. 

“Sorry,” she whispered back apologetically, even as she floated higher with excitement. “But look at her little deciduous maxillary central incisor! How adorable is this?”

Toothiana, or the Tooth Fairy as she was known, cupped her cheek in delight and fluttered over to the bed of the sleeping child whose tooth she had collected. Soft even breaths stirred a mess of brown curls that fell about the round face of the four year old as she slept soundlessly. She cradled a stuffed hippo in her small pudgy hands underneath the blanket with her, a little pink hippo that mirrored the bright figures dancing across the wallpaper around them and the little decorative pieces that adorned the rest of her room. It was the hippo clock on the wall she looked to when she heard the beckoning twitter of a mini fairy beside her.

Sighing, she gazed fondly over the sleeping child again. “I know, I know, I’m coimng” she responded. Tenderly, carefully, the Guardian raised a feathered hand and brushed aside the little girl’s soft curls with her fingers. She watched only a moment longer before she drew herself away. Her heart felt full in a way she would never be able to describe, not even if she lived another thousand years, and Toothiana felt that warmth from the tips of her fingers to the tips of her toes. 

Oh, how she missed this part.

“Alrighty then, let’s move out ladies. Rebecca has a recital in the morning” she announced to the room in a whisper. She knew many things about the children whose teeth she collected, anything she needed, and she didn’t want the darling girl with the love for hippos and dance and music to wake. The other fairies tweeted in agreement and flew in a flutter of green and blue out of the open window from which they had come, Toothiana following after.

Outside, the breeze blew by with a whistle, rustling her feathers and nipping at her skin. She looked up to the moon then, bright and full and allowed herself a moment to enjoy what she was doing. She imagined the Man in the Moon smiling down at her as she imagined he did for all of the Guardians he had chosen. For the life of her, the Tooth fairy could no longer remember why she had stopped going into the field with her fairies, what could have been so important as to take her attention away from seeing the children for so many centuries. Whatever the cause, Toothiana knew the Man in the Moon meant for her to be right where she was now, and that she where she was going to be for centuries to come.

She wasn’t allowed to her thoughts for too long. A flurry of fairies soon surrounded her, chirping and peeping and cheeping all sorts of news and updates. Toothiana didn't miss a beat, just put herself right back into her feathers, so to speak, with a smile, and fired back responses for each of them. 

Another fairy joined her just as the others took off and tweeted in a fluster of excitement, violet eyes sparkling happily. A distinctive beauty mark dotted her face, but even without the spot, Toothiana knew exactly who the fairy was.

They were all a part of her after all.

“Oh! How wonderful” Toothiana exclaimed. She flittered about excitedly, looking around. “Sandy is here? Now? I didn’t even—“

She stopped. Her own violet eyes widened in wonder as she finally caught sight of her friend. 

“He is here” she laughed.

A large bird flew by her, glittering gold underneath the moonlight in a trail of sand as it soared by her. More sand snaked through the air after it like things alive, and maybe they were, sand taking shapes of all sorts of marvelous things; there was a manta ray, flying through the air like any bird, and over there beneath her a giraffe slowly but surely took long grand strides to his sleeping child. 

Toothiana giggled as she carded her fingers through the magical sand that passed by, her fingers tingling with a pleasant sensation that the wind didn't chase away. Rubbing them together, she watched with fascination as the enchanted creatures went through window after window and board after glass to reach the sleeping minds of the children of France. A pony galloped by her with a whinny, making its way through the window she had flown through not long before. Toothiana knew Rebecca would be having pleasant dreams this night.

Flying by the mystical creations of the guardian of dreams himself, it did not take long for Toothiana to spot him. Sandy was perched high in his golden, swirling cloud, tufts of blonde hair swaying gently as he conjured up more dreams with his sand like some great magician. 

Toothiana smiled to herself. Oh, but he was better, wasn’t he?

“Sandy! What a coincidence! How are you?” she called out brightly. 

The little guardian paused with a start of surprise and then was smiling back at her. A little sandy image popped up above his head, taking the form of a big thumbs up. 

“I’m glad” she answered honestly. She could count the amount of times she crossed by any of her friends while she was working on one hand. Though, to be fair, she had only recently took to the streets again—just before last year she had spent her centuries running her teeth operations from her castle in Southeast Asia. Back then, Toothiana only ever saw the other Guardians when there was a crisis. It was quite delightfully because the persistence of a certain winter spirit that they began to see each other more than every ten or so years. The thought of the boy made Toothiana’s smile widen. She was sure a mini fairy was swooning somewhere. 

Toothiana reached Sandy and gave him a hug which he returned with deceptively strong arms. It was easy to forget how powerful he was when he was so positively adorable. The fairy told Sandy as much and he pouted, sandy streams shooting from his ears like smoke. Fluttering back with a laugh, Toothiana spoke quickly to the fairies that had flown to her before turning her full attention back to Sandy.

“I forgot how wonderful it was watching you work. They’re all beautiful, Sandy” she said, looking back at the dreams with a sigh.

She got a wide smile in a response. An image of a tooth and her fairies and a round of applause all popped up above his head in sequence. 

“Oh, thank you. It’s nothing really,” she said sheepishly. “Just cloning yourself into millions of copies and collecting children’s teeth everywhere across seven continents every night. No biggie” She shrugged and snorted cutely, hands folded.

Sandy laughed silently at that, shoulders shaking with mirth. When he settled, a question mark popped up. A large rabbit.

“Bunnymund? What about Bunny? Did something happen?” she asked worriedly.

Sandy shook his head. Another question mark appeared and then the sand swirled into an image of searching binoculars. 

“Oh! Where is he? I don’t know” 

Toothiana thought for a moment. “I haven’t spoken to him since our last meeting. Are you looking for him?”

A shake of the head. Then an image of a boy in a hood and a staff.

“Jack is looking for him?” 

This puzzled her. The next “mandatory” meeting Jack announced they would have wouldn’t be for another two days. It was these meetings that he announced every month to break their monotonous schedules of work to spend time together for–real, actual, fun fun. Not the stuff you guys do on your free time. That’s still called work—and she always kept perfect track of them. 

Sandy nodded in agreement and then shrugged. The little Guardian began to work again, mouth set in such a way that Toothiana knew he was still thinking.

“I wonder what he needs” Toothiana pondered aloud as she darted to Sandy’s side. She was at his other side a second later and Sandy was beginning to feel dizzy as he watch her flit about. 

“It isn’t easy getting in touch with Bunny while he’s working. I hope it’s nothing” If worry had again crept into her voice, it was something she couldn’t help. It was hard not to be a little worried when her friends were concerned. They didn’t exactly have good track records when it came to keeping away from trouble.

Sandy didn’t say anything to that, but then again, he never did say anything. He had relayed his message and there was nothing more for him to do. Nodding in agreement, the little Guardian conjured up a great dinosaur he loved best out of all the great prehistoric beasts. The dream sand came to life before him and lifted its long neck to the direction it would be headed. The moonlight from the full moon above seemed to guide it’s way, the lumionous rays falling delicately over the road ahead as it moved.

Somewhere in France, a little boy would get his dreams of dinosaurs.

_ _ _

The Warren was empty.

Jack Frost knew this definitely—he had spent the last half hour riding his winds through the long winding tunnels and over the great rolling hills that was the birthplace of Easter and spring. The only company he had with him were green and rooted in the ground. 

Well, there was also the egg sentinels, but it was best they stayed frozen a little while.

Sighing in disappointment, Jack allowed himself to drop from the air to the grass below amongst a field of brilliantly colored foliage. He landed delicately on his feet, taking care to mind the flowers growing wildly around him as he stepped. The warm air felt pleasant against his skin, which was always something that surprised the very personification of winter himself. Jack curled his toes in the soil and leaned on his staff, allowing himself to enjoy the serenity of the Warren as he thought about Bunny.

And just what...present he should leave his furry friend this time around.

Mischief and a penchant for fun was as much a part of Jack as the frost that he breathed and the snow at his fingertips. Pulling pranks on the Australian rabbit—no, bunny—was some of the best bit of fun he could have, topped only by the play he had with his young believers out in the snow. 

Jack hummed deep in his throat. Blue eyes took in the wide expanse of the Warren, the bright flowers, the dipping green hills, the running streams, the soaring lush trees, and the possibilities were endless.

“Now...what to do, what to do?” Jack mused aloud with a smile.

Straightening, the winter spirit twirled the wooden staff in his hands as he began to walk aimlessly, whistling a tune he'd heard earlier on a car radio. He didn’t know the name, but it was catchy.

“Now, what haven't I done?” he asked himself. “Maybe freeze the stream? Make it snow in the tunnels?”

“What?”

Jack spun around on his heels and looked down to a red tulip looking flower, petals pointed up to him almost in question.

“That? Why, that's a great idea! I couldn't have thought of something better myself” he exclaimed with a laugh. 

Pointing his staff to the flower, his smile grew as the plan unfolded in his mind. 

“You, my friend, are a genius. Now”

The winter spirit turned away from the flower and looked up, face warm as another breeze blew past.

“Okay wind, take me to the tunnels!” he called. 

Jack was laughing even before the great winds came and whisked him up and away off the ground to the air. He twirled about as he was carried, arms out so he could better ride the air current. He cried out in excitement when he was thrown about in a loop and then another and a spin, before he settled out again and was able to coast easily towards the ground. 

Not before long, the young Guardian was finally gently dropped off to his destination. The hollow in the towering rock before him was large and framed by gray slated stone, the intricate carvings and individual pieces looking older than even the rock formation itself. The inside was dark, and Jack could hardly see inside from even the entrance where he stood.

Still, the burrow was hardly imposing. With the fresh smell of earth and green and the vibrant moss growing around the etchings, it looked more like a cozy den from a children’s book than anything else. The image of walking painted eggs and furry rabbits marching and hopping through always made Jack chuckle, so he had no trepidation about walking inside. 

He never did.

Like all of the Warren, the air inside was warm. The temperature didn’t drop even as Jack walked further in, something that Jack imagined was attributed to some sort of magic. The smell of moss was stronger as well, and Jack ran his hand along the walls, letting the moist soft felt slide against his palms as he walked.

He came to a stop after he notioned he had gone far enough. Jack twirled the staff in his hand and tapped the end of it on the ground.

“Okay. This should be just as good a place as any” he said. His voice bounced off the walls ahead like an agreement of sorts.

And now was the fun part. 

Ice bloomed from the bottom of Jack’s staff to the mossy earth below his feet. The cold touch was welcomed to his skin as it branched out further to cover the ground around him, freezing over the bottom of the tunnel in seconds.

Jack skated barefoot on the ice as it formed from his staff, letting the piece of wood lead the way for him. He quickly wound around the walls and the ceiling, never falling, making twisting loops and circles that he just knew were going to be awesome when Bunny—

Boom.

The explosion of color and sound that went off in front of him was all Jack registered before he lost his balance and fell down from his ice trail. The white-haired guardian landed on his back with a sharp intake of breath, his focus spinning around him as the smoke and splashes of greens and reds and blues settled where he lay.

Head hazy, he could barely make out the sound of stone grinding against stone and heavy foot steps over the roaring in his ears. Jack sat up carefully and groaned, rubbing at the back of his throbbing skull. Shaking his head to clear it, the guardian looked up to his new company with a lopsided grin.

Jack chuckled. “I knew I smelled eggs”

Two egg sentinels stood before him, green-spotted stone faces set with an encarved glare. 

The eight foot something warriors towered over him, rotational heads twitching and turning in what looked like agitation to Jack. He picked himself up slowly from the ground and raised his hands in a calming gesture. He had never seen them fight, not really, and he wasn't particularly keen on learning on the receiving end.

“Now, now. Let's not do anything hasty. I was just leaving” he said reassuringly. He was backing up towards where he had come, but the grin never left his face. “I just wanted to come by and leave something nice for Bunny. Is that so wrong?”

His answer was more grinding stone as the two warriors suddenly broke off into a run.

“Woah!” 

Jack quickly made another ice path for himself and skated out of the way of the stampede as he rode along the wall and over their heads and down again behind them. Who knew those things could actually run?

He spun around so he was facing them, not missing a step as he began skating backwards. The stone sentinels slid gracelessly along the ice he had made before, rolling heavily as they tried to get back up. Jack gave them a salute and turned back around, laughing.

“Bunny, you're going to have to get better security than—”

Another egg came whizzing by him, narrowly missing his head before exploding behind him. Jack cried out in astonishment and stumbled a bit as he made another complete circle around the tunnel and looked back at the smoke, filling up the area behind him. Looking back in front of him, his eyes widened in astonishment.

“...that” he finished.

There were more sentinels, all lined up in his tunnel, and others appearing in the conjoining tunnels he passed. Jack skated between them, weaving around and through the stone giants as he passed them. He may or may not have had to freeze more of them as he went, but watching them stumble over their frozen comrades and slip and slide on the ice was more than worth any reason he could think of. His blood was pumping and the rush, the adrenaline that was racing through him as he dodged their exploding projectiles and rolling bodies made him hoot and laugh as he rode through the winding passageways of the Warren, his voice echoing throughout.

He knew how to have fun.


	2. Chapter 2

E. Aster Bunnymund did not like snow.

He did not like the feel of it in his coat, he did not like the biting chill of it nipping at his skin, and he most certainly did not like running—or hopping—through the stuff when it was piled impossibly high over the ground as it was now.

The Pooka came to a stop and rubbed furiously at his arms, gaining only a bit of warmth for his efforts. The harsh cold wind of the subarctic climate kept him hunched over as he shook and his violently chattering teeth felt close to cracking. The snow was deep enough to reach just underneath his knees, and everything below them had lost feeling some time before. His nose felt like an icicle frozen to his face and his ears, his ears were a completely different story all together. No, Bunnymund did not like snow, and he allowed himself a moment to steel his resolve before he shot off back home. There was good reason for the guardian tunneling to Canada in the winter time when he would have much rather preferred to be at the Warren where it was marvelously, eternally, spring.

Eggs. 

Or, if he were to go to the heart of the matter, the hunt. It was the hunt for eggs that dragged Bunnymund from his rounds back home and out to the snowy woods where he was now. Bunnymund took off again, following the scent of magic in the frosted air into the white buried foliage and trees of the woods. The magic had a subtle, yet very distinctive smell, and it was one that Bunnymund knew well—he had been trailing it for over a year. His good friend North enjoyed a great moment of thoughtfulness about a year before during his month-long Christmas celebration (North celebrated Christmas throughout the month of December and the eggnog and cake only saw more rum as the actual holiday passed) and gifted Bunnymund with brilliantly crafted wooden eggs carved hollow and stuffed with chocolates. The painted shell was very unlike North’s usual work, but the colors reminded him of Sophie’s own attempt at painting so it was lovely nevertheless. The magic that clung to the egg, as North described, was to help him find them wherever they might be hidden. The Guardian of Wonder had since hid them month after month so he could have, as Jack Frost supplemented quite amusingly, his very own Easter hunt. All year round.

It was such a touching gesture, Bunnymund initially had been very suspicious. It was in his nature to be cautious, but the Pooka could hardly deny a challenge either. Every time North gave him the signal, smile broad and eyes sparkling with mirth, Bunny tracked them down and hunted for them. Their locations differed drastically, from the high rooftops of Madrid to the homely farms of Mato Grosso. The prizes inside were just as diverse, ranging from chocolates, peppermints, stickers, erasers, coins—anything that would fit in the hollow it seemed. The contents always made Bunnymund curious enough to raise a brow, but North had no response for his questions outside of a hearty laugh and a mighty clap on the back for a job well done. 

Nothing did come up from the gifts malevolent in nature, so Bunnymund continued his hunts, instincts sharp as they’ve been for centuries. The little journeys were always a thrilling change from his usual and sometimes mundane work in the Warren and provided for a great distraction. Despite whatever obstacles he faced, Bunnymund couldn’t quit. Not when the children that raced out to find his eggs were so eager and unwilling to quit.

Besides, he was the Easter Bunny. How could he not find all the Easter eggs?

It was this last thought that gave Bunnymund the final resolve he needed. He could handle a little snow. He refused to let North best him in his own game. He only needed to track the eggs, find them, and then conjure up the next tunnel out of this snowy wasteland en route to his Warren where he could place all the goodies in their respective places and relax in warmth and comfort. 

The magic was strong in his nose, meaning he was close. Bunnymund gave a triumphant whoop and scanned the area quickly for potential hideaways. Now it was only a matter of finding the individual spots—and Bunnymund had been hiding eggs for centuries. It did not take the Pooka long. North was clever, but Bunnymund had centuries worth of experience under his belt. He uncovered eight of them, tangled in bushes, nested in branches, and one dug deep underneath the snow and hidden underneath a rock—boulder—that took some effort to move. The last was hidden in a hollow in a tree where he had to fight off a duo of offended squirrels. 

“Crikey, I need to get out of here” Bunnymund muttered to himself when he was done. Opening the pack he brought slung across his shoulder, Bunnymund observed his spoils more carefully, noting the etched patterns and twisting grooves and vibrant, albeit messy, swirls of colors. His whiskers twitched in satisfaction as he closed the pack again, a warm smile lifting the corners of his mouth. Pleased, Bunnymund wriggled a foot free of the snow and shook it as best he could while balancing on one leg. The Pooka had to stamp a few times to get to the ground, his foot working away the snow until he could feel grass underneath. A large hole swirled into existence, opening into a long winding tunnel that would bring him back home. He could practically smell the hot chocolate he was going to whip up and nurse just as soon—

Bunnymund paused. 

It was faint, faint enough that he almost missed it. Bunnymund’s foot settled in the frosted grass where his tunnel had disappeared amongst the snow. There was another magical scent in the air, practically unnoticeable with North’s own magic pungent in his nose. It was weak, but the scent made his heart thrum erratically in his chest and his ears perk and his fur stand on end. He could discern that it was close and Bunnymund only took a moment to consider whether or not he should pursue it before he made his decision.

Bunnymund was a Guardian, he could not walk away now when there was something potentially afoot, something potentially dangerous. And he felt it, the danger, or something that wasn’t right. The Pooka placed a paw on the boomerang resting in the holder against his hip, his claw tracing the grains in the wood as his eyes bounced quickly over trees, logs, brush. He tread as carefully as he could through the snow swallowing his steps, taking his time although his nerves were tense and eager. His nose twitched as the scent became just a bit more perceptible to his senses. He was close to the edge of the woods where it bordered a small, gray, nondescript road peeking through the white of winter fall. Homes lined up on the other side, huddled together closely underneath the piles of snow that buried them. The air was still and quiet, as if the town was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

Bunnymund took a step back and dropped on all fours, ears rotating and nose twitching again discerningly. There was something here, he could feel it underneath his skin even despite the snapping cold. Frozen tail forgotten, Bunnymund bounded through the edge of the woods, sniffing as best he could through his freezing nostrils. Hopping through heavy scrub and clusters of skinny trunks reaching up towards the first rays of morning, Bunnymund slowly began to realize that these woods were familiar. When he came to a stop next, it was because he recognized suddenly where he was. The woods looked different, dazzling white against dark bark and deep green spruce, pine and fir, but it was the very same woods he had ventured to before, long ago. Almost as if in reminder, the magic he had been tracking surged. It emanated in the air fiercely, curled down his spine and made his breath come quicker. 

He didn’t realize he was moving until he was standing in sight of the road again, looking down at a shrub not unlike the rest. It was a Taxus Canadensus, or a Yew, a beautiful shrub and one that he counted amongst his favorites. The leaves hung heavy underneath the snow as if trying to conceal a secret, the foliage of needles thick enough that he couldn’t see directly within its spindly branches. 

He was hesitating. The acknowledgment was a blow to his pride, but it prompted him into action, despite the slow coils of realization that curled up his arm as he reached into the depths of the brush. Through the gangly branches and leaves his paw finally enclosed around something hard and cold and it made his heart stop.  
Bunnymund gasped and ripped his arm out, eyes widening at the round icicle in his paw.

“M-my googy!” he exclaimed in horror. He tore at the brush again as he cradled the frozen egg and dug out more and more of them. “I don’t—this isn’t possible”

The Pooka went through all the bushes in the area and uncovered more of the Easter eggs, frozen and tinged with age and sickness. The painted shells he had worked on with so such diligence and pride were cracked and peeling and chipped away. He found more than he cared to count, too many to carry in his arms. He knew they were spoiled, dead. The little magic that clung to them were remnants of the enchantments he had given them over a year ago. Their little legs were still present, frozen stiff and angular as if they had been in motion before they stopped suddenly in their travels. Bunnymund picked up as many as he could, carefully, one by one, and packed them away in his pouch. Bunnymund did not miss how dull and sick his own eggs looked against the bright wooden eggs that were North’s own. He felt a twinge of guilt he couldn’t place and grief, grief because some group of children had not had Easter and because his beautiful eggs had somehow never made it out the woods they were waiting in. Any merriment Bunnymund felt earlier was left behind as he hopped out into the street. 

As he stood there in the dead of morning in the dead of winter with his rotten Easter eggs hanging at his side, the silence of the winter air was suddenly disturbing, the impassive faces of the houses unsettling. The stillness of the day had lost its serenity, and in its place, was a great sense of foreboding. Bunnymund couldn't shake the thought that something had happened in this town and the answers were lost to the disquieting calm and snow. He was more than relieved when he conjured up a tunnel and dropped down into the welcoming darkness, leaving the chill behind.

He should have known his troubles would not end there.

Hopping as fast as he could through the long winding tunnel trailing through the earth, Bunnymund was too preoccupied with his rampant thoughts to properly process the scene in front of him before his feet slipped abruptly. The poor Pooka slid gracelessly against a path of melting ice as it twisted and turned wildly through the passageway. He cried out and tried to regain his footing as the world spun around him, claws raking against the ice until he was finally hurled into the air through a magnificent frozen hoop.

When he fell, it was in a heap of tangled limbs and matted fur. It took a moment before Bunnymund could stand without dizziness threatening to send him over again, and he had to hold clumsily onto the wall for support. Groaning through his fingers, Bunnymund looked dazedly to see what in the world had happened, his eyes widening in disbelief when his brain finally caught up with his eyes.

Melting ice swirled in brilliant spirals and twists around the ground and ceiling like some child's toy track. The moss that grew in vibrant carpets of green against the rock glistened with the dripping water, matted down and slick from the massive amount of it falling from above, soaking the floor. And worse, worse still was the fact that he was not alone. His egg sentinels were strewn and rolling throughout the tunnel like giant loose marbles, feet kicking uselessly at the air as their heavy bodies lolled around the ice and rounded walls again and again in a pathetic clamor of chaos. The standing were knocked back down to roll again and bump against others that were struggling against their weight to manage the same, the sound of stone grinding and banging against stone filling the space.

Bunnymund immediately forgot the pain in his backside. Grinding his teeth fiercely enough to hear the sound, Bunnymund felt his paws clench into shaking fists as he imagined getting them around the neck of one deviant winter spirit in immediate need of a discussion.

“JAAAACK!!!”  
…

“You think that is better? How is that better? Look how this shines like Rudolph's nose!”

Frowning, the other occupant of the cramped wooden table made some very pointed grunts as he gestured meaningfully toward his creation. It was a doll, a fabric doll with dainty features sewn in and a head of silky fine hair. The occupant—a Yeti as he was known to most—rubbed the material of her cotton dress against his fingers and grunted again in a tone that suggested there was no need for argument.

Seated in front of him was his superior. He was Santa Claus to most children of the world, but North, the Guardian of Hope to those closest to him. He turned imploring blue eyes to his friend and made a sound in his throat in disagreement before he shook his head.  
“The dog Pookles told me Parris was first place in contest and she has been on Nice List since last Christmas. She wants shiny doll so she gets the shiny doll!”

The Yeti rolled his eyes to the ceiling and shook his own head. He garbled something in his own language as he passed the doll over to the ex-bandit, looking so expectant despite his furrowed brows and frown the North took the proffered toy with a chuckle.

“You want me to feel clothes?”

Phil nodded and leaned in closer as a bright smile lit up North's features. 

“Yes, yes” North was now nodding along with the Yeti, his expression now that of one in concentration. “This is good material, very good”

The slam of the door as it burst open and crashed against the wall rattled the two out of their conversation. Tiny elves stumbled in in fright, scrambling over themselves to escape the vicinity of the Pooka towering over the room as they ran to the safety of North's chair, hiding in shivers behind his boots.

North took in the gray matted fur, sticking every which way in a tangled mess and had to cough into his fist to conceal the laugh bubbling up his chest. His friend looked absolutely livid, green eyes turned to fire in a glare that would have terrified North had he been anyone else. Bunnymund's whiskers twitched cutely—North had to bite his knuckles to keep from chortling out loud—before he spoke, his accent even more prominent now that his fierce temper was triggered.

“We need to talk” he ground out between clenched teeth.

North exchanged a look with Phil across the table and turned back to Bunnymund, huffing and dripping on his wooden floors as he stood in the doorway. He stroked his beard thoughtfully, hoping the action would help him to look serious and not positively amused and on the verge of laughing.

“Has Jack done something?” North asked innocently. His dark brows went up as he waited for an answer.

Bunnymund ignored the snigger that came from Phil at the question and narrowed his eyes. “Yes, and that bloody little blighter will be wearing my foot in his arse when I see 'im”

Blue eyes widened comically at that and North pursed his lips. “Oh?'

“But that's not what I wanted to talk about” Bunnymund sighed, and suddenly, he looked so tired and worn and scared that North didn't know what to do at first. He could feel the tension from Phil beside him too and North’s frown deepened. Worry crept into his voice when he spoke again and made him stand from the table, earlier conversation forgotten. 

“Tell me what it is troubling you, Bunny”

Bunnymund didn't respond immediately. North was standing in front of him when the Pooka finally nodded. Green eyes turned back to him, dark with foreboding.

“You’re not going to believe this, mate” he said.

And North couldn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and bookmarks :) And thank you appending_fic for dropping a comment~ I hope this chapter is a little better. Things will start to pick up next chapter a little more so stay in tune!


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